


Tongue Twister

by letdown



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anxiety, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Drug Use, Gen, Post Season 3, Recreational Drug Use, Sexuality Crisis, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Steve Harrington-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 20:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letdown/pseuds/letdown
Summary: Steve, still higher than the Empire State Building, told her he'd never eat edibles ever again.Yet here he is, his pupils as wide as saucers, about to fall into the same state as last time. While he can say with confidence that he still doesn't like edibles, he knows that this time their dosage is not the reason for his anxiety. The only thing the drugs have done is bring some clarity to his ever racing mind and make his tongue come loose, and when Steve's mouth wants to speak, there is little he can do about it. He decides that there is no way around it.





	Tongue Twister

The world has gone hazy and blurred. He feels hot, way too hot, trapped in the blanket that has wrapped itself around his body. At first, he was comfortable inside his cocoon, but now he feels suffocated. But he can't get himself to kick off the blanket. His muscles aren't responding properly, his mouth is filled with cotton, and his bed has become a boat rocking against waves. He keeps blinking to make it stop, then squeezes his eyes shut. Neither helps.

The rational part of his brain knows what is happening to him, knows that he needs to wait it out for a bit and then probably just go to sleep. But the rational part of his brain rarely has the upper hand. There are words sitting on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill, but his body is fighting to keep them in. All of the sudden he is very aware of the pounding of his heart.

"Steve?"

It takes a second to realize that someone is talking to him. He can't pinpoint where the voice is coming from and flops onto his side. He spots Robin on the carpet floor, her arms spread out and her legs up against the wall. Her eyes are bloodshot. She repeats his name, her lips moving in slow motion.

"Did you OD over there?"

His tongue feels foreign in his mouth.

"You want something to drink?"

There is a glitch in the matrix. His brain is lagging behind. He isn't comprehending any of what she is saying; he is too preoccupied with himself and the realization that just hit him along with the drug in his system. Robin struggles to get up from her position, then disappears from his field of vision. He rolls back onto his back, a wave of nausea rolls with him. Deep breaths, he tells himself. Deep, steady breaths. 

This happened before, once, the first time he got high with Robin. Well, the first time they _deliberately_ got high together, far from evil Russians, interrogations and torture and -- 

The first time they got high together wasn't Steve's first time trying edibles, but he hadn't been hit by their effects with such force before. One and a half of the brownies had been more than enough, and of course, Robin had told him so.

"Patience, dude," she said, taking more chips out of the bag, when he told her he would have more of the brownies.

Patience isn't among Steve's strengths. He had given the drugs more than enough time to do their magic and Robin's eyes were already glazed over. Waiting any longer for the effects to kick in wasn't an option. So he ate another bite or two. And he came to regret it: Merely half an hour later he was shaking from anxiety and paranoia, because one second he thought his heart was about to jump out of his chest and the next second he felt like it had stopped beating altogether, and because somehow he still thought that all this was hilarious, albeit in a very messed up way. It had been a disaster, and Robin had been unable to help him calm down, had been too far gone herself. And then, after they had spent thirteen hours in an almost comatose state, Steve, still higher than the Empire State Building, told her he'd never eat edibles ever again. 

Yet here he is, his pupils as wide as saucers, about to fall into the same state as last time. While he can say with confidence that he still doesn't like edibles, he knows that this time their dosage is not the reason for his anxiety. The only thing the drugs have done is bring some clarity to his ever racing mind and make his tongue come loose, and when Steve's mouth wants to speak, there is little he can do about it. He decides that there is no way around it.

"Robin," he says, right as she appears by his side.

"Sit up, dingus." She puts a hand on his shoulder and a glass of water in his face. He gulps it down fast, still craving more. Robin doesn't seem to be annoyed when he takes her glass and drinks from it as well. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking," he says, and this answer, though far from convincing, seems to be good enough for her. The mattress dips as she climbs onto the bed, over his legs, and flops down next to him. Her cheek is resting in her palm, she closes her eyes and sighs. Steve doesn't know how much time has passed or if she has fallen asleep when he dares to speaks up again.

"Robin." He tries to whisper her name, yet his voice rings like a shout in the quiet of his big, empty house. 

Her eyes open, stare right through him. "What is it?" she whispers back, yet she also doesn't seem to get the volume right.

"Wanna ask you something," he says.

"Go ahead."

Steve hesitates. "Have you ever made out with a girl?"

She snorts, seemingly startled by his question. "I wish."

"So how do you know that you like girls?"

She lifts a brow. "Dude, how did you know you liked girls before you made out with one? This is like me asking you how you can know that you're not gay since, at least to my knowledge, you've never kissed a guy."

Steve swallows around a lump in his throat, swallows around his anxiety. He is scared of the words coming out of his mouth, but he can't hold them in any longer.

"I think I like guys," he blurts out.

"What?" Robin leans in closer, as if she didn't understand him just perfectly fine, so Steve says it again. The syllables come together, he stumbles over them as if he's trying to say a tongue twister he hasn't mastered yet.

But maybe, Robin actually hasn't understood him. "You gotta slow down, dingus, and speak _louder_. Why are you whispering?" 

His heart is pounding against his ribs, and he is so frustrated with her. "Because it's a secret, for God's sake, "he hisses.

"No one can hear us," she says, and he hates her for making him say it a third time, but does it anyway.

"I like guys, too." There it is, loud and clear.

"You're," Robin's mouth opens and closes, like she is at a loss for words. "You're … bi?"

"Yeah, I'm… What?" Steve meets her eyes in confusion.

"Like," She pauses to lick her lips. "Bisexual? You like guys _and_ girls?"

Steve blinks, once, twice; his thoughts are going in circles. "There's - there's a word for that?"

"Yes, dingus," she says. "Bisexual."

"Okay. So… There's that." 

There is a pregnant pause.

Steve looks up at the ceiling. The room has stopped spinning, and his anxiety has ebbed down to a barely noticeable buzz. He feels lighter. He knows now how stupid it was, his fear of rejection and judgement, because he's been talking to Robin of all people. Robin, who poured her heart out in front of him before they even called each other friends, and who has never judged him on anything except his cheesy pick up lines and questionable taste in movies. 

What he really was afraid of was admitting this to himself, of saying it out loud because that would make it real. And to be fair, saying it out loud _has_ made a difference. It was scary, but now he can breathe a little easier. 

Robin moves closer, rests her head on his chest, and awkwardly reaches out to pat his shoulder. "Thanks for telling me, dingus. Now I can make fun of your taste in girls _and_ guys."

Steve snorts, playfully trying to shove her off him. "Leave me alone."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to bring up Tammy Thompson?" He puts on his best muppet voice and sings a tune.

"Fuck you." Robin laughs and proceeds to pull at his blanket. "Move, I'm cold. You're wrapped into that blanket like a damn burrito." 

He erupts into laughter but does as he's told, making room for her and draping the blanket over both of them. While Robin's breathing evens out, he tries out the word, mouths it over and over again. Bisexual. He likes the sound of it, likes his _issue_ being something that has a name. He likes that to Robin, it isn't an issue _at all_.

"Love you, Robin," he mumbles, unsure if she can still hear him. 

Her lips curl into a smile, and her voice is full of fondness. "Love you too, dingus."

**Author's Note:**

> this took way too long to write  
> first time posting anything in literally five years + first time posting in a language other than my native language, so... rip it apart, tell me what you think please!!!
> 
> also, talk to me on [tumblr](https://lletdown.tumblr.com/)!


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